


Memory

by Tanya_Meridia



Series: Visions [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Episode: s11e06 Our Little World, Lucifer's Cage, M/M, Sam Winchester's Visions, mentions of torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-23
Updated: 2015-11-23
Packaged: 2018-05-03 00:09:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,107
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5269187
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tanya_Meridia/pseuds/Tanya_Meridia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He’d never seen the cage from the outside, but he knew what he was seeing, just as he knew that those were Lucifer’s hands.</p>
<p>Sam remembers Lucifer; his torture and his hallucinations. Lucifer remembers the Darkness.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Memory

“I don’t suppose God’s decided to share any wisdom on the matter?”

“I’ll look into the lore.” It wasn’t what Dean had meant, but Sam had already tried to tell him about the visions, and Dean hadn’t wanted to hear it. Sam walked towards the shelves; the argument was stifling.

 

The sky was a sulphuric fuzz, writhing and swirling with the essence of dead demons. Chains criss-crossed through the haze, piercing through souls in various states of ruinous decay. Echoes of screams rang through the distance, but no-one dared come close to the cage. It hung apart, a box built from twisted, tortured metal. Fingers clasped around two curled beams, reaching through the gaps.

 

Fear turned his bone marrow to ice. He’d never seen the cage from the outside, but he knew what he was seeing, just as he knew that those were Lucifer’s hands. He shivered, remembering their touch.

 

That first vision had been of the cage, of the agony and torment. Up until now, he had assumed it was God answering his pleas for help, even if the answer hadn’t made sense. Now he wasn’t so sure. After all, this wasn’t the first time he’d had visions of Lucifer. Sam’s insides lurched, and he swallowed, fighting the urge throw up his own guts.

 

Cas wouldn’t be able to save him this time. No-one would. Lucifer would creep into his head and Sam would fuck up and talk back and it would all be the same as before. Lucifer stalking through his mind, breaking anything he could find. Shaking up memories and wishes and nightmares until he didn’t know what was real. Dragging icy fingers across walls and nerves. Anything to keep him in his place. Maybe Lucifer would do something different this time; stop him from speaking, stop him from listening. Cut off any form of sensory input. He’d done something like that in the cage once; numbed him as he sliced his skin to shreds, and then returned every sense in the same second, letting the pain hit all at once. Maybe he would block out everything but touch. Everything but pain.

 

Sam inhaled, gulping down air and digging his palms into the wood of the shelf in front of him. He pulled his nails against the grain, focussing on the textured scrape across the tips of his fingers. This was real, it was small and mundane and real, and Sam stood, fingertips turning white as he pushed down even harder. He would fight this. He had no choice.

 

_You’re unclean. In the Biblical sense._

 

Billie’s voice piped up from the back of his mind, yet another person (being?) telling him what he had always known to be true. He was dirty, tainted, wrong. As Lucifer had said, he was made for the devil. These visions could be that devil, but they could just as easily be God, finally telling him what everyone else already had.

 

_This is where you belong._

 

Sam studied the spines of the books before him, guessing the title of the next one before he came to it. The thought was cold and parasitic; small and writhing and impossible to ignore. Dean didn’t believe him, and even if he did, he was human, and he was fallible; he would reassure Sam that it wasn’t true, but he could, and would, be wrong. After all, who could argue with God? Sam’s lip twitched when he remembered their newfound knowledge that the Darkness was his sister, but somehow, he suspected that the Darkness wouldn’t be desperate to reassure him. He would just have to fight it, like every other time before.

 

* * *

 

Lucifer stirred when the line twitched. The longer he spent monitoring it, the more in tune he became, the more he remembered his connection with Sam. Lucifer couldn’t hear specific words, but he could sense Sam’s feelings, and he knew Sam was confused. Sam was thinking about his visions again, and the line trembled like a plucked violin string. Lucifer had to act fast, give the bluntest answer possibly in the time he had. He crept into Sam’s mind, sorting through his options as he moved. If he showed his face, the line would snap, and he would be left truly helpless.

 

Sam was still dwelling on the last conversation they’d had, and Lucifer could see the, as yet subconscious, knowledge of just who it was talking. He could get away with being obvious. There wasn’t much choice; he had only moments before Sam became distracted. Lucifer pushed the image as quickly as he could; his own prison, and his own hands. The once green-tinged haze of hell turned black by the Darkness’ foul corruption.

 

_Let me out. I can help._

 

When the Darkness was free, she had snuck into his mind and become a hurricane, devastating everything in her path and amplifying any hint of anger or resentment. They had beaten her, forced her back, but it was too late; the damage was permanent, and so far only Sam had proved himself worthy of anything other than disgust. Worse, he could feel her sick chaos closing in again, and it was only a matter of time before she found him. There was no lock, no key, nothing he could do to defend himself. She would find him and corrupt him further, twisting him and damaging him until he could no longer be called an angel.

 

When there had been a human carrying the mark, Lucifer could forget that the Darkness was there; he had still felt her pressing against the edges of the universe, but he had been safe in the knowledge that she couldn’t break through the lock. Now there was nothing, and he was even more defenceless than last time; he was the last archangel, and his father was long gone. Even if he wasn’t trapped in the cage, he wouldn’t be able to fight back the Darkness on his own. His only option was to trust a human and hope.

 

He was at least glad that the human in question was Sam. His human counterpart, his other half. The human who had taken him on and won. In that moment, Lucifer had been able to see why his father had been so enamoured with the humans; they had somehow managed to produce this beautiful thing, this creature who held the strength of archangels in his fragile human body. If he could trust anyone to bring down the Darkness, it was Sam. It was just a case of getting his point across.

 

He wound a tendril of grace around the line. The cage didn’t seem so lonely anymore.

 

 


End file.
